The Untouchables
by Kitsunefan203
Summary: In this life, there are those who can be touched and then there are those that wish to remain untouched...AkuRokuReno. Craptastic summary I know...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All characters used in this belong to Disney/Square Enix and Tetsuya Nomura.

AN: This is based off a Deviation that was made by and is the sole ownership of the Deviant: Nijuuni; this is a slight AkuRokuReno, but the mix of it, might come around possibly here and there, it might start off as AkuRoku then might run to a slight RenoRoku, but, we'll just see and just for a heads up, this first chapter is just kind of establishing each of the three key characters in this kind of back stories slightly.

Chapter 1-The Beginning of it All

In the world of war, anything is possible; they say that war makes a man lose all sense of humanity, morality, and strength of what he was before war crept into his mind like a secretive disease that works its way through each nook and cranny of the human mind until it finds a place to nestle in and then strike when the person least suspects it, striking at a moment that could very well cost the individual their very life. Striking and matching sword for sword with an enemy, be it on the battlefield or in the old days of training and sparring with a smart mouth member of your class, those were days that were longed for, but when one steps foot on the battlefield and starts to match and cross blades with an enemy that could kill them with a real sword, not some plastic toy; that's when the reality sinks in.

War.

Is.

Hell.

He knew that, he knew it as he watched another poor, sadly, pathetic, but scared enemy fall underneath his blades as the enemies blood rain at his face, leaving an almost macabre clown make up on his face. Upon that pale, unmarked, youthful face as eyes started to return to a normal point of normalcy, the adrenaline rush was starting to slowly leave all the senses as the reality of what he had done sunk in as the sound of the dying filled the stagnant air. Blood was everywhere, the field was a dark hue of the blood of the lost souls, both enemy and ally, even allies who had become traitors and turned towards becoming a part of the enemies side who were cut down in the blazing heat of battle. A pair of eyes were slowing closing as the enemies once colorful skin became to become flush, cyanotic, then ashen; he was dying and yet, he was able to still beg for mercy and cry.

"…P-Please…Please…spare me…don't let this drag on longer then it needs to be…please…in the name of God, I beg you…" a frail hand, shakily began to reach for the one that had been the harbinger of the dying figure in the blood soaked grassland, "Have mercy is all I ask of you…"

One hand shook while the other raised up a bloodied sword, with a fell swoop, not a single uttered sound was made as the sounds of the dying became a distant memory, "…May you find peace in the afterlife…"

"Commander Sanderson," a voice called out from behind the closed eyed blond as the blades were re-sheathed, no regard for the blood still hanging from them, "Are you alright, sir?"

Slowly, as if the world was in slow motion, a small framed blond turned about face without so much as a misstep or extra motion as the blades followed along the same path as the figure's feet and as if the body had done this numerous times again and again, the eyes seemed to look up with a look of a war torn fighter; cobalt blue eyes opened to look upon the man, or in this case, boy, addressing him. His eyes had seen much in his time, and he wasn't an aged man, he was just as old or just as young as the boy addressing him as Commander; a fifteen year old that held the rank of Commander.

"I'm alright, Private Jensen, make for the convoy, we're finished here," he seemed to speak in a manner that someone would have found in a hardened war veteran and many years older, "The battle is ours…"

The young Private's hazel eyes beamed with excitement as he saluted the Commander, "Sir, yes sir!"

…_So young…and yet…so naïve…_

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"Isn't that…?"

"You mean that playboy, yeah, that's 2nd Lieutenant Woodsboro, and he always stands at that corner…"

"Why?"

"Don't know…some say he once had a girlfriend and they had promised to meet at that corner at midnight so they could run away together, turns out the girl was just another hussy and just as much a smooth talker as he is…"

"Aw…Poor 2nd Lieutenant…"

That was what the façade he work to rope the young ladies into believing he was a hopeless Romeo that had lost his heart to a smooth talking young woman who had legs that could go on forever and a bust that made a number of the village girls particularly upset. Some had even gone as far, silly as it was, some had gone to the length of trying to pad up their busts when they wore their corsets in the Town Square, some had even silly enough placed anything from tomatoes to baby potatoes into their bust to hopefully bulk up their bust. Those that were able to create the illusion enough didn't have their interest who had seemed more interested in their bust instead of the girl itself, they got lucky, but those that weren't so lucky; they tended to become a laughing stock that would end up walking around with wide brimmed hats for the rest of the time till something else caught their laughing fancy. A small number of the unfortunates tended to hide their faces behind the new interest that had taken the population of young women by storms, they took to hiding behind colorful fans that had been said to had been brought over on traders ships from the distant waters where the men could be heard talking in private about the young women of the far waters.

He was a hopeless Romeo, but he had not been duped by some easy hussy that had smooth talked her way into his heart, life, and let alone his bed on more then one occasion; he was just as hopeless as the fictional character Ichabod Crane. There was nothing to explain why he was a hopeless bachelor, even at the ripe age of twenty-three, most young men his age were either courting, or had courted a young woman and at this point had, should they survive war, come home, married their young lover and had many children by now.

Sunlight hit off the worn out pocket watch that quickly became pocketed as he continued to play off the mask he wore openly, "Heh…where is she? She promised she'd be here on time this time," a gurgling could be heard coming from the man's stomach as his hand faintly patted, "Down lassie…she'll be here, she never fails us."

"Excuse me, pardon me, excuse me, hot food coming through!" it wasn't hard to spot the young lass coming from far off as her head of short raven hair came bobbing along through the crowds of people down the cobbled meets mud covered streets, "Excuse me, really busy, got deliveries to make to our troops! Lads have got to eat too, you know?"

"Have much trouble finding the place this time, Yuffie?" the man held out a single rose for her as he reached for the food, but before he could make a grab for it; he found her youthful finger jabbing into his chest, "Yes, no, maybe so…?"

Yuffie was a young lady that worked at the local bakery that worked as a butcher shop as well being that the husband and wife ran separate businesses and neither could afford to have a shop to themselves and it meant that once they both closed up for the night, they could already be home. She was merely the delivery girl being that most of the strapping young lads of the town had gone off to join the Military Forces and Ranks, but she was happy to do it, but how had she come to befriend the hopeless romantic Romeo, 2nd Lieutenant Axel Woodsboro?

She tapped her foot against the muddy ground, "Not this time, Axel, this time, you don't get to sweet talk me into a free meal," her scowl said it all; meals weren't going to be coming cheap for much longer, "Pay up this time or else, I'm taking this back to the shop or even giving it to a more less unfortunate person that truly deserves this…"

"Heh…you drive a hard bargain you little grubber," Axel fished through his pockets as he pulled out a small coin satchel, and dropped it in her hands as she shoved the meal at the man before she dropped the coin satchel, "Geez, did you wear this down with a brick?"

"Shush you, be grateful that I'm doing this for you…" her fingers worked over the coins in the satchel as she made sure that it equaled the cost of the meal, "The Boss is starting to get slightly suspicious; he says the cost of food is going to shoot up any day now due to this silly fighting going on."

Axel looked up from the mouthful of boar that was hanging from his mouth as he mumbled through the gristle and bread combination, "When did you hear about that?"

"…There is rumors flying around that they are going to rise the cost to keep you guys feed while on the field, defending the homeland. Things are looking really tight as it is so, no more free meals. Either you cough up some coins or start bringing a lunch to play the hopeless Romeo everyday or get use to not eating for awhile."

"…Don't worry, I'll survive," a soft fleeting smile crossed Axel's grease and bread crumb covered lips, "I can probably due to not eat a few meals."

Yuffie softly chuckled as she wiped the crumbs from his face, "Sometimes, I wonder what I would do with you or what you would do without me…"

"I'd probably starve…"

"Or you would find some other girl to get you some table scraps;" the young woman softly slugged the man in the arm, "Wouldn't you?"

"Um…" Axel looked off into the distance as he tried to think up an excuse, "…Maybe?"

"AXEL WOODSOBORO!"

It only took those fatal words to put the man on the run as a few rose petals from the rose he had offered to the young woman to fall their way onto the road as the sound of her peddler like shoes squishing against the mud of the road as Axel's Military issued boots slopped along in the mud, but the sound wasn't as defined. The mere sight may have seemed out of place should anyone see the situation going on, but to anyone know that knew the two "friends" as you might say, they would just shake their head and laugh to themselves with an inquiring remark to no one in particular, 'They're at it again…' Axel and Yuffie's friendship was truly an odd one; Yuffie was facing the stockade for thievery, but for one reason or another, Axel had managed to sweet talk his way into getting her out of the stockade, even lying to his Commanding Officer who was the head behind the one placing her in the stockade that the young woman was his fiancée. That lie hadn't gone over that well with Yuffie at the time, but after a time, Axel had managed to find a decent job and in exchange for the job, she would now and again sneak him out some scraps as it seemed for the man to eat.

"GET BACK HERE YOU TWO BIT FOOD BAG HOG!!" Yuffie tore off around the corner after Axel, but found her self smacking in behind the man, "Why did you stop?"

Only a simple gesture could be shown and said as the man pointed at a Battalion coming up the road with a young man upon horseback, worn and tired, but even with the signs of battle upon his face, something seemed to shine through his face that had caught the man's attention, what it was, no one seemed to really know except for Axel in the brief moment. For someone who had come from a fight against an enemy, not a single strand of hair seemed out of place, on any other person that would've seemed rather hard to believe unless they had faked being in a fight, but the boy on horseback showed all the signs of having been in a fight.

"Make way for the 20th Battalion! Commander Roxas Sanderson leading the charge, make way, make way!" the lead of the Battalion brigade called out ahead of the unit as the remaining members of the unit began their trek through the town towards the main Compound, "Make way! Make way!"

People upon the road began to move out of the way, but Axel seemed to stare on in a form of one or another stunned shock at the way the young teen looked, "…He's…a Commander?" it was a shock to the system to see such a young person to be at that rank, "But…he's just a kid!"

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Footsteps…

Stepped forward…

Walking as if they were final steps, but their pattern was odd, the seemed to slid and slip as did the upper body figure as liquid slipped to the floor and an odd laugh came from the figure as hands worked to keep the man off the walls and the floor; he was happy, absolutely happy, ecstatic even, but it was an odd kind of happy. A drunkard kind of laughter as something collided finally with the wall mixed with the sounds of hands slapping against them, the sound of something hollow hit the wall that made the laughter just grow and grow as the feet finally gave out and the laughter grew to a fevered pitch as the sounds of clogging steps came down a pair of aged stairs which then grew into padding as they crossed against a carpeted hallway.

"Reno Montclair Dubois…" the voice was all too familiar for the happy man on the floor whose emerald green cat eyes seemed to slit out through the almost too small for the man's façade face, looked up to find a young woman with raven hair, long and past her shoulders, but pulled back and a duster in one hand, "Drinking…again? And at this hour of the morning; you are truly a fool among fools…"

Yes, Reno Montclair Dubois was a happy man, but only when his mind, body and soul were filled with fine liquors, no matter the hour of day or what day it was, even on Sundays he would become a drunken fool when it was considered an almost sin for a man to be drunk on the Sabbath. It didn't matter to him, for as long as his Mother had been dead, he had taken to hitting the bottle since the age of thirteen, what was this woman with a duster in her hand to say what he could and couldn't do or be allowed to be drunk at whatever hour he very well pleased? It would have been thought he would have taken up the ideals of being a man of Military prestige like his Father who was off at War even now, but when the man had turned the age of 18, the age when it would be a time for him to join; Reno had had other plans. He did go to join, but he was going to do everything in his power to avoid getting picked up for Military command or be apart of the Military by any stretch, when asked to strip down and report back to the Physical Station; he did as they asked. Unfortunately, he took the "strip down" part far too seriously and came out in absolutely nothing, aside from the colorful miniskirt that he had donned upon his hips.

Immediate Ban from Any Military Branch, Permanently.

"Hee, hee, afternoon Mom…Care for a drink?" the man lifted up the now empty wine glass as his drunken laughter remained hidden behind the façade mask on a face on his face, "It's a pretty good year, you'd probably remember it since you were born in it!"

The woman snatched the bottle and glass away from the man as she lifted up the mask on the man's face, "…Shape up or I'm sending you to your Aunt's farm which has no way of communicating with the outside world which means, you'll sober up right away."

"…Yes ma'am…" Reno managed to hide away the drunkard he had been as he slowly rose to his feet, slipping the mask off to the side, "Sorry about that crack about your age, Mom…"

"It's alright, Reno," slowly but surely managed to get the young man to his feet, "Just watch how much you drink of this stuff in one sitting, it can't be doing any good to your liver."

"Who cares about that? It's not like I'm using it…"

She could do all she could to stop the man from drinking, but the want to stop was his decision and it wasn't going to be happening anytime soon, lately, the drinking was getting worse and worse and it had started going down hill after his Father had been called out to the battlefield. Ever since he had left for the battlefield, his Mother, more like Stepmother had taken control of the house to the point that he had taken to hiding out in the house to drink himself silly into hysterical, drunken stupors and laughter while wearing the oddly painted mask. The mask was considered a psychological way to hide away from all his problems, but why wear such a mask that was a simple, white cream color with an intricate design along the right side of it? It was haunting to anyone who didn't know the real reason he wore it, some just assumed it was for his own odd ways of being a clown; he had always been coined the clown in any situation, but his attire told a different story. His Father may have been a Military man, but for as long as Reno had been alive, he had been a rebel, wearing things that would have otherwise made his Father call him "tackless", "disgrace", and the always present one was "gay fairy". It was something he had taken to taking in stride, his attire tended to have the local girls questioning what brought on his strange interest in the chain mail like chains that hung off the arm bands he could always be seen wearing. His hair was always askew, wild and untamed and the amount of piercings that decorated his ears tended to make others question why he was even pierced, but the thing that stuck out more then his open drinking, odd attire, mentally odd reasoning behind the wearing of a mask or the ear piercings, it was the markings near his eyes.

Some questioned if somewhere deep down within that possibly tortured soul was someone that indulged in the idea of masochism or marking themselves to stand out from the population, but that wasn't his case; he just liked wearing the markings on his face because they seemed to accent his eyes, was that such a problem?

The woman leaned in against Reno's face as she tried to wipe at one of the marks on his face, "Ma, come on, don't touch my face…I like these, leave them alone!"

"Well you look like someone that got into a fight and let the battle scar like those go left untreated and then they healed up like that, now, hold still…"

"Ma!"

It was a constant fight between of the two of them over the marks on his face, his wardrobe, his sense of fashion sense, his odd personality in regards to the questioning of his mental status and his drinking, "Come on, Ma, stop it!"

"Fine…" the woman backed away, hands flying upwards as they came back to her side, "Fine, go around looking like a clown for all I care. But when some young man comes to court you, don't expect me to play nice…"

"Yeah, yeah, Ma…like any guy would ever be interested in me…" Reno could only simply step back and look himself up and down, "I'm as straight as London Bridge."

She had no other reason to fight with him on the topic as she walked away, muttering under her breath, _"…Damn eunuch…"_

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Confused yet?

Let me lay it out for you: Roxas is the youngest War General ever to grace a battlefield and it was only after his Father had decided that it best for his son, his only son to that fact, should take up his position on the battlefield because it was unaware to the young man, but his Mother had a vague idea why he wants his son on the battlefield, this way his Father can continue his frilled affairs with some of the local women.

-Axel is a hopeless romantic that uses his sullen good looks and his somber looks of being able to turn a pretty face his way to take pity on a "lonely Soldier just looking for a bit of comfort and possibly the arms of a young woman willing to put up with him" but its mostly a mask to cover for the fact deep in his heart; he's a lonely man that no matter how hard he works to better himself, there is no way to fix that until he sees the young General.

_-_Reno is a soul that is drowning himself away in the bottom of a bottle, hiding behind a facaded mask of pain and misery that is buried deep within a tortured soul that is spiraling downwards into an utter pit of a town known as Nowhere and his Mother is starting to question whether her son is ever going to find someone or be doomed to just hide behind some mask that hides his true personality.

...I know it sounds like some odd, hard to understand, metaphorical like fanfic, but...Heh, its my first AkuRokuReno.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: All characters used are either copyrighted to Square Enix/Tetsuya Nomura or Disney.

AN: Well, I managed to get ONE review for this and I figued, "Heh, I guess I've got something to work with here!" So, I bring you chapter 2 of this fanfic; still a WIP and I'm still working out the details here and there and of how I'm going to have this trio pairing come to work ^^; Either way, enjoy. And I'm willing and open to a Beta for this if someone is wanting to look over the chapters and grammar here and there to see if something should be edited here and there or would like to throw in ideas for what could be done. If someone is up for it, please PM me and we can work something out. If you are chosen as the Beta, you'll be given credit in the AN part of each chapter you help Beta in. ^^ It's appreciated if anyone's interested. Same goes for the other WIP to nearly finished ones listed in My Stories of my profile. Thank you and enjoy.

Chapter 2

The sounds of a Battalion coming down the streets drew the man to the window as he pushed aside the curtains as his eyes gazed down upon the street, too many times had he watched the parades of the Battalion or Battalions come through the city streets, sometimes he would run down the flights of stairs in the house just to make it out the front door to wave and welcome home the men, especially his Father. That was nearly ten years ago, ten years ago when his Mother had still been around; she had left the Family after realizing that being the wife of a Military Man was not worth the trouble it brought, and just like that, his Father had come home with a new wife a few short years after his Mother had left.

That was the day he gave up on showing any form of respect for a Member of the Military, to him, any individual, man or woman, woman, that was laughable, that joined the Military; they would turn into just a pathetic excuse for a person of the human race that was only into chasing and nailing the next thing that moved, "What a day it truly is…just another mindless, soul rotting, mind numbing reason to strut out in their Sunday bests and falsify their true home coming waves for those souls that have but all left the core that use to be the strongest men in this country…"

"Can you do or say anything besides that doom and gloom garbage?" blissfully, the woman's eyes as she watched the Parade, "Your Father should be coming in on the next Battalion behind that young General out there…Some days…"

"Some days you just wish he would give it all up and stay home so he can become nothing then a pampered house pet in the human source so that he can die a lonely and sorrowful man that wishes even to his dying days that he could've done more with his life," the youth's eyes rolled back in his head as his swagger from early started to sober up much as he had done as the mask found its way to the end table decorated and embossed in a lace like pattern, "Do you have to keep repeating that same pathetic dribble day after day or whenever there is a Battalion Parade? It's starting to lose its luster and charm…Mother Dearest."

And just like that, "Ungrateful little bastard child…" a small sound of defeat but win for his restless mind wormed its way onto the youths face as he watched his Step-Mother walking off, muttering and sputtering words that never would grace any other "well rounded" woman's delicate lips from behind the fan at her face that flutter about like angry hummingbird.

"Evil Witch, 0, Eunuch Bastard Child…Heh, who cares anymore…I've lost count of how many times I've beaten her at her mindless little games of Guilt Trips," his emerald eyes glazed into the empty wine glass in his hand as the long muscle in his mouth snaked its way over his dry lips, "As the tune will go, 'It's Five o'clock Somewhere' time to make and keep that little appointment with own personal Margaritaville."

War, what good is it, nothing at all, or that's what they say, but war, what good is it to a young soul? A soul that has known nothing but the harsh tragedies of the extinguished lives of both enemy and comrade or those under your command; it's hard to establish whether war is good at all or if its just another meaningless, droning task that until the end of one's days that one is forced into doing until either God himself smites the life out of the nearly lifeless soul or an enemies bullet, bayonet, sword, or any number of weapons pulls him down. There is always the opportunity that early retirement is a possibility to end that cycle, but, how can that come about when it has, even not in the presence of the individual to in even his presence, that its been hinted to almost told directly to his face that existence of the Town, even Country's Military would cease to exist without him leading on the forces and troops. But why was it that it was considered he was the only man that could possibly do the job that any other or number of other far more seasoned War Soldier could do?

It was simple.

He was young.

Reliable.

And overall, he commanded a presence that the other Veterans would envy or even beg to have.

There was no chance getting out of the Military was going to be an easy task, "Sergeant…please go on ahead and inform the Commander of our return as well as make a minimal report on the venture we are now return from…there are some things I must attend to here in town," the youth's eyes wandered, tiredly towards a little home that was none too far from where he had stopped his horse as the others on horseback as well as foot continued on ahead of him and the Sergeant, "I'll be at the HQ shortly after I finish with my business…"

"As you wish, Commander," without another word or blink of the Sergeant's eyes; he had taken to moving down the road as almost like a ghostly parade in slow motion, the other officers started moving for the Headquarters that was a makeshift minimal shanty town near but yet close to the inner outskirts of the town, "Let's go men, drinks are on me once we get back to the Headquarters!"

A roaring sound of cheers and happiness sprang from the minimal ranks as the ranks of those left within the ranks seemed to spring into a joyous roar as their steps sprang into a joyous run but staying within the limits of Military limits. By this point, the waiting crowds on the sides of either side of the streets started to depart much like waves after a roaring tide as it began to calm as the Full Moon began to settle to the horizon to greet forth the sun, the revelry was over and the only lone figure standing in the middle of road was the youthful Commander. And much like with the parting sea, there stood a lone figure at the head of the parted crowd was the place he was headed for before heading off to the Military Headquarters. The air hung thick with worry as the young General worked the horse into a mild trot as he wandered down the street, growing closer and closer to the lone figure out at the end of the road. It had been too long since he had seen the figure or the place that was looming off on the edge near the figure; she had not been up for listening or willing to put up with her only son, having to take up the role of what had been for his Father and even still, she was not up for putting on the fake smile of a proud Mother. She had already lost one man in her life to War and the Military; she was not ready to lose another to the same thing that killed her husband.

"…Hello Mother…" solemnly his voice spoke out as he glanced down from the top of the saddle of the thoroughbred horse.

Her emerald eyes gazed upwards to his as her fingers bridled through the horse's mane, stroking her fingertips down the neck of the horse till it settled on the edge of the saddle, "…Welcome back home, son."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: All Square Enix/Tetsuya Nomura used characters are accredited to those Creators and any Disney related or affilited used characters are accredited to Disney. Any filler characters or character names are accredited to my mind.

AN: Read chapter 2's Author Note for full details regarding the reason for this being continued to be posted to and details regarding the want/desire for anyone wishing to Beta my work or wish to be my Beta. Thank you and enjoy.

Chapter 3

The crowds were beginning to disperse since the revelry had died out with the war hoops of those fortunate enough to return from the battle made their way for the local taverns to partake of the drinks that would overfill the brim of their cups as well as the company of a young woman to warm their laps. Even as the others began to disperse, a dumbfounded and, in its own metaphorical way, statue like form of the hopeless Romeo, stood still as if the image of the young man had never once left his gaze. He had wanted to hold to that image of a young man, war torn young man that had not a speck of blood or mud, or any form of the battlefield and its doings upon his face; he was perfect. Angelic. Nothing could ruin him aside from the sullen and distant gaze that war wore on him as he seemed to had almost methodically, as if it was something he did everyday, drove the horse on down the road as he gave the orders to his second in command.

Sounds of the war hooping soldiers had broken the man's daydream of the young man as he found his raven haired, feminine friend had all but bruised his side with her elbow, "Hey, lover boy, you going to keep standing their slack jawed or are you going to move some point today? My employer isn't going to look too well upon my tardiness if I don't get back soon," when there was no sound or any inkling of movement; she thrust the basket of goods into his hands, "Tch, see if I ever bring you free vittles any time soon."

"Yuffie, wait," the man finally spoke as he tossed a small satchel of coins at the woman, "Thank your employer yet again for the food, I shall find a way to repay you for the time and time again of sending these to me."

"Don't mention it," the young woman bowed out gracefully as she made her way through the thralls of crowds, "Don't be a stranger near the parts unknown!"

His eyes never left the basket in his hands as something kicked on his head, where had the young man from the battle gone to? "Damn it! I'm going to be late for work!"

Yes, the hopeless romantic Romeo did work, even if it didn't show in the free time he seemed to have on his hands to be able to standing on the street corners and try and woe a faint hearted young ladies heart, but, that is a tale all its own. For you see, he was been groomed to take over the business by the Head of the company he worked for; a leather maker by trade was his Employer's business and even as rough a man he was, he was just as kind a man to give the man a lee way to do what he wanted. On the occasion he would allow him more lee way then usual, but, due to the arrival of the young man in town, business was due to come to a slow down pending on the urgent need for them to battle field where business would be on an all time high. All hands were going to be needed if the need for leathers for the young men that either had come back or where about to be sent out was going to become a high stress request. His employer's eldest, yet only daughter, Tiffany, but was known as Tifa to others, had had her eyes on the strapping young leather maker employee for quite sometime, but had never once made her move to move on the man. This was not courting was done, but she was starting to snickers from the other young ladies who were claiming to have a young man that had promised them that once the war was over, they would be wed. At this rate, she felt that was destined in her own melodramatic way, to be and remain to her final days, an old maid.

"Where is that man?! Where is he?! He knows that today is a day of work and tomorrow is the Sabbath! Where is that fiery red head of a spitfire gone off to!?" the employer was enraged at the fact that his apprentice and possible new head of his business was missing even when the sun wasn't at its highest in the sky, "Leonhart! Have you seen Woodsboro today?!"

A hearty sigh came from the leather maker who had been making belts since the early morning, "No, Mr. Highwind, I have not seen that sorry son of a bitch anywhere today…he's probably off playing 'Hopeless Romantic Romeo' again today, sir," the man went back about his work as he occasionally brushed a way his long hanging bangs that helped to conceal a scar upon his face.

"Well, if you see that silly ass, son of a bitch, send him my way, I have something to speak to that man about something, something of real importance," even if Mr. Highwind seemed to be in a foul mood; it was to hide the joyous news, more or less, deal he was planning to settle up with the young man, "Really importance…because today, I'm going to announce him as my Successor to the business and ask that he start courting Tifa…God knows that young woman could use a man in her life ever since her Mother, God rest her soul, passed away on his this last Winter."

Slowly, the young General crawled off the horses back as a servant came from behind his Mother as he took aside the young man's horse; thick and heavy hung the sensation that tension was bridled between Mother and Son. It was an almost unending game that played between the bond between them both, one wouldn't speak to the other until the other would start to chortle and giggle to one of them was a fit of giggles and arms were wrapped around another; not a look or word of ill or contempt was passed between lips, as it was this same time as well. Soft blue looked into emerald green, green as the lily pads that the frogs sat on and croaked during the night in the reluctant little pond that had formed in their homely yard after a great rainstorm that had eroded itself into a quaint pond for the frogs to find nest upon. First, there was a quirk of a lip here and there, a flicker of eyes there, fingertips moving about in nervous recognition and then, it happened.

"Welcome home my brave son" her arms found their place around his shoulders and as reluctant as he was to break the stance of a firm General; he took her warm and homely embrace as he placed his own around her thin waist, "It has been too long since you have been home…"

He had to agree, "That it has, Mother…"

Her soft smiling eyes could tell everything as she placed her arm out with her palm down as her son followed suit as he took to escorting her to the carriage that awaited forth to take them home, "You must tell me all that happened once we are home…"

"Yes, Mother, but first…I wish to bathe and at least get a bite to eat and a good night's rest…" his eyes tiredly drooped as the stance and demeanor of the General he showed about the others started to fade away as he curled his head up against his Mother's lap, "…War has tired this young body."

"Aye that it does my son…that it does…" all that she could hear was the soft sounds of his breathing slipping in and out of his nostrils as he softly slept against her lap and her fingers trundled through his golden locks, "…For home, driver…the General is tired and he deserves his rest."

"Yes ma'am…"the driver made no further words as he made out a call to the two horses as they pulled away from the one bustling now quieting streets of the small Market square; tonight, he would not be the great General whom had lead a charge against the enemy forces at only the young age that he was, tonight, he was merely a young man like any other young man.

Happy, drunkard chortling could be heard amongst the tapestry walls of the quaint mansion home of the stupor young man, Reno as he chortled his way down the halls with his mask firmly placed upon his face once again as the happy chortles seemed to be stifled against his mask. Maids and servants watched the happy display; it had been too long since there had been any happy man or woman within the dark and distant halls of the small Manor. It had been lively in the days of when the young Master's Father had been home to announce that for any number of unknown reasons, the Master would announce a Party was to be put together in the following days. Parties that would include the young, the old, the rich and the poor of the small village town; he was not a man that was left to just letting only a few number of those who had either come into wealth or had been born into have all the fun. Reno's drunken stupor's would now and again, bring about soft chortles and snickers from the young maid's as they watched the man sing of old Celtic like tunes as he danced through the halls in his drunken stupor. He would even take to chasing them in his drunken stupor's with the mask firmly against his face with one hand while another sloshed a bottle of liquor about on the floor. Paying no heed or mind to the liquids that sloshed out and hit the floor as he would then soon follow in a hyena like chortle of drunken laughter.

There had been a time when he had been found by his Stepmother, down in the basement cellar among the Winter stockade of the harvest and other goods that were to sustain them through the cold Winter, drinking merrily and happily with a few of the working hands. Even a young woman, that had not been employed to their home and a slurry form of speech proclaimed she was merrily here for the company of the young Master in which she proceeded to show to the young man's Stepmother; her wares and billowing bust. Roaring laughter accommodated her actions as Reno lost his seat upon the barrel he was on and the young woman had soon followed, laughing just as loudly and roaring as loudly as he was. Gestures he later made with his Stepmother watching on as she attempted over the loud sounds of a miniature band in the basement cellar, to reprimand him for such behavior as he began to raise his hips upwards to meet the young woman's in a mocking fashion as to say they were having 'a joyous fun and time' and further went on to tell her that if she stuck around, 'you will have a bastard grandson! Is that not right, dearie?!' The men laughed and cheered him as Reno had jokingly, aside from his Stepmother's howling scream as she attempted to take him off the young woman as he threw his young ladies guest's legs open and jokingly began to 'have at her' as the men had put it. Unfortunately, their fun had not lasted the rest of the night as Reno was pulled from the Cellar and sent to be dunked in an ice bath as the other rowdy guests were shooed from the house as well as the distasteful young woman.

"Oompf!" Reno let out as he tripped over a set of feet but his hyena laughter was still chortling against the stained over and over again from the lost liquor, "W-Who put the speed bump in the middle of the hallway?"

A sound of a throat clearing alerted the man's, stupor and dazed eyes skyward as the mask seemed to lift his way upwards so that his hazy emerald eyes could look upon the stopper of his fun, "Having fun, son?"

He knew that voice.

"…Yes…" Reno had to stifle his laughter as he started to find his way to his feet, "Very much…" a sound of a hiccup from the drunken stupor worked its way out as the man broke into laughter again, "Very much, Father…"

"Someone take him to an ice bath to sober him up…honestly…I come home from my trip overseas of six months to a drunken son…What is this house honestly coming to?" the man at the moment was not enthralled at the actions he had found upon his arrival home, "Honestly."

A couple of the maids made their way, cautiously out from the hall as they stood before the man, "Welcome home, Master Dubois…" but the winced as they found his hardened glare on them, "Forgive us…Welcome home, Master Shinra."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Still don't own any of these characters.

AN: Sorry for the long wait on getting up another chapter to you guys, I was gonna wait till after my hiatus of finding work and acquiring work to post this among other chapters I might write sooner or later, but I figured I'd just update fanfics that are WIP and keep fanfics that aren't on here such as new ones that are multi chaptered till after the Hiatus. Check you all later.

Dubois, the studious last name of the man's sadly departed former wife; she had made a claim to the man that it only seemed right that her last name be their last name, and thankfully it stayed with her and her son. It would help for her young son to have a connection with the first true last name he would ever hold to his heart and would die with and it was liable to die with him at the rate the young man was drinking himself into a frenzy to annoy his Stepmother. A Stepmother who had become the fret and every waking worry of his Mother until her saddened departure from a world of the living; she had heard the gossiping going on that her husband may have strayed and was in the bosom of another woman. She had thought nothing of it at first, but as the rumors became more and more vicious, her skin became thicker and thicker with each obscure word that was thrown about. It was distasteful that a woman should just stand by and let her husband deal in infidelity, but the former Ms. Dubois had grown up in an infidelity household but that never stopped her or deterred her Mother. Ms. Dubois' end had come when she had walked out into a frigid cold lake that was none too far from their home. The caretaker of the nearby Cemetery who had watched the woman take her frozen lake stroll would later remark to the weeping youth that had been Reno Montclair Dubois, his Mother had gone in with a smile. It was as if there was no fear on her face; she wanted the cold death that the frigid lake had brought upon her frail form, even if the cold had caused her to shiver and cause icicles to clutch about her simple petticoat…

She had gone with a smile on her face.

That's how Reno wanted to go, but right now, with his Father staring his sobering form in front of him as he lay on the floor at the man's feet in his half drunken stupor; he had to stay alive for her sake. He was a _Dubois_ and a _Dubois _he would be when he died, if and when hopefully the man that was his Father didn't strike him dead down first where he stood.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself, Renton?" Mr. Shinra glowered down on the youth as the nearby maids fidgeted with the frilled pattern about the aprons on their uniforms, "Well? Speak up boy!"

~XXX~

From the time Reno had been born; he had despised his Father. His Father would never refer to him by the name his Mother had given him, Renton was considered a more distinguished name and it meant that he was of stature and power. He hated the name. He loved his Mama and the name she had given him and he would, on occasion, growing up on the school grounds of the Boarding Schools his Father would send him away to; he would shortly be home within a matter of weeks because he had picked fights. The children grew giggly when they hear his name being called on Role Call by the Class Headmasters then at the time the children would have to be children, the fights would ensue. And then he would find himself in the Dean's Office, facing a hard crack whip Dean with a foot long yard stick that smacked like a death march's drum play against the old man's calloused hand. Mr. Shinra's hardened glare on the smug grinning faced man in front of him was like seeing that Dean staring at him as he gave the man the same smug grin that all Teachers and Dean's of the Schools he had been to had seen before punishment was delivered. Even when he would be punished, his smug grin would stay and not a single tear would grapple from his eyes.

He saved those for home.

~XXX~

"I'm giving you an order young man!" Mr. Shinra reared his hand back as if to smack the young man, but when he saw the mask and a hand shift, "If you are disrespecting my orders, young man you know that only punishment lays ahead."

Reno's piercing emerald green eyes were highlighted by the red marks under the cat like eyes as the mask sat an awkward angle against the left side of his face and his right hand was raised. The palm of it was facing the floor, but the hand itself was tilted at an angle. A salute.

A sneering grunt came from Mr. Shinra, "That's better."

But Reno wasn't finished as the hand slid down and its fingertips pads brushed gently under his Father's chin till the other hand reached up and cuffed the man up the right side of his face; sending the man reeling slightly, "No, _that's _better."

The Maids stood at the attention they had been since their Master had returned home, but inside, they were rejoicing that someone was willing to take the man down a few pegs. Unfortunately, the silence didn't last long. Reno accompanied his action with a chortling laughter as he hid himself again behind the mask as two man servants walked up, cuffing their hands up under the man's slouching shoulders. His sobriety didn't last long as his Father came up screaming while all the Stepmother could do was to stand down and watch the man reprimand his son.

"You listen here to me, you little upstart…I brought you into this life and I could just easily take you out of it, but…"the man's fingers had fisted into the front of the youth's shirt; he could still hear the chortling behind the plaster a Paris mask, "…Then how I would explain your disappearance?"

A flick sound of a fan opening as air currents brushed over its movements had a voice speak out from behind it, "You could tell your friends…and anyone who inquires of him that he was called to the Front Lines and would return at best next summer," the Stepmother's scarlet painted lips caressed into a hard lined smirk as she watched for a change, "What do you think?"

Mr. Shinra simply sneered as he let go of the youth's shirt front, waving the man servants and Maids off as he moved away to a mirror on the wall, "No…War is not a good enough punishment for him; he's getting an ice bath and then tomorrow," his eyes turned back to his new wives form, taking in how layered petticoat dress hugged her in all the right places; leaving her a ravishing look piece of work, "I'm taking him with me to find him employment. He has too much free time and work makes a young man a boy because no Squadron would take him…He's an aloof fool that would just as easily give his Squadron away to the enemy."

"That is true, but at least we would be free so that a _true _heir to your fortune and everything in this home could be created…"the woman's dainty fingers caressed themselves against her stomach as she watched her husband, _her _husband moving towards her, "Don't you think that is a splendid idea?"

A soft purr of lust came from the man as his arms wrapped about her frame, inching her back towards a long felted sofa in the Living Room till the man was all but mockingly straddling the woman, "…Care to take a test run at that suggestion, my love?" the man's hips mockingly bucked down upon her gartered and corseted form as the woman squealed, screamed and laughed with mock joy of the man truly doing what he was proposing.

"Aaah! Aaah! Y-Yes!" her cries were filled and flittered with laughter as the man settled his face into the crook of her neck, leaving his teeth to gently brush in against her delicate neck, "…Mmnh…that son of yours shall find himself out on his own and penniless once I bear you a child to take on for you the continuing name of Shinra…"

"I can't wait…" the man deflated down upon her form; their giggling laughter matching with one another.

~XXX~

Reno's demeanor changed from the chortling happy fool to a somber and quiet man as he felt the ice bath overtake his body; the mere cold wrapping around him like a cold blanket that had been left out during a Winter Storm and placed onto a man who had fallen into the pond during the coldest part of the Winter. It was inhuman for this kind of thing to happen as he was left to sober up in the ice bath. Once he was found to be of a sober manner, the man servants helped carry his cold form out of the porcelain tub and carry him to his chambers. There, he was undressed of the wet and cold clothing and redressed with warm clothing and bundled up in warm blankets; it was hard to see the young Master endure such torture for becoming sober.

But Reno never let it get to him.

He would always have a smile on his face from the start of it and the start of it afterwards; he was slowly breaking his Father like his Father had broken him. Not much more then a year or year and a half after his Mother's death when he had taken up the bottle; his Father had taken to punishing the boy. But the ice bath was not ideal for a boy his age; the mere cold would surely kill him. No, there was a way to kill him slowly. He had barricaded the boy's head inside of a box that was placed upon his head so that when he did arouse from the drunken stupor; he could awaken to the fear of being in the dark. For nights afterwards; he had cried in his sleep. So began their game to break one another; the next time he had seen his Father come home in a drunken stupor of his own kind, Reno had employed a few of the servants to help him carry his Father out to the barn where they then stripped the man. A young woman was paid in full for her services beforehand, was instructed to 'have some fun with the gent, showing him some jollies'.

That night hadn't gone well.

When his Stepmother had been brought to the barn to feast upon the sight of her husband being seen with an employed for money services young woman; she knew exactly right away who was behind it. Thankfully for the stars up above for Reno; all he had received that time was a nasty thirty whacks to his posterior with the backend of an oar.

"…If you need anything, young Master, we shall be right outside your door," the man servants called out to the conscious to unconscious young man as they bowed, taking their leave.

Reno seemed to scoff in his head, _If I need anything…I just need to be left alone to join my poor Mama…Mama…it's getting harder here to live without you…Papa has moved on without you and I know that they mean to push me out of here…Wait for me, Mama…any day now…any day now I'll be out of here and back in your arms. _

_Dubois' forever._


End file.
